Cookies, Beer, and Happiness
by Kathrn1095
Summary: Mom was that bottle under the table. She was full of happiness, but after a while, she seemed empty. It's all hollow, before getting filled up with something that everyone loves. Soon the happiness is gone, and you break. Some try to fix it, but they always leave you to fix yourself. Loved ones are the glue to being put back together, but they run out or dry, leaving you shattered.
1. Chapter 1

_Whirrr... CLANK!_

I liked to think of Mom as that bottle that rolled under the table. She was so full of happiness and cheer, but after a while, she soon seemed empty, like a cookie jar that everyone can reach. It's all hollow and dirty, before getting filled up with something that everyone loves. Cookies and love, but in Dad's case, it's beer.

After a while, the happiness is gone. Whether it's a cheating scandal, that person leaving you to be a widow, or just being no longer loved. Soon, you can't take it anymore. You break, just like a jar or a bottle. You break into little tiny pieces, that seems impossible to put back together.

Sometimes someone will try to come along and try to repair or fix it. Try to glue you back together. Sometimes you don't want to be fixed, but sometimes try to help yourself get fixed, all too eager. But then eventually they will leave you to repair yourself, and you won't have the strength. Loved ones are the glue the can bring you back together.

I've lived with Dad for 4 years now, after my parent split up. Mom just stopped loving him, I guess. I don't know. She's the glue to fix Dad, but she dried or ran out. Either way, she's not going to fix him, and I've accepted that.

I grab the bottle from under the table, and set it on top. I don't really see how he could drink that much for four years. I've tried drinking it while he was knocked out, and it was quite gross. Too bitter.

I stared at Dad, who had his mouth open and his hand hanging off of the bed. He's drooling, which is gross. I wonder if he ever drooled on Mother before. That doesn't sound very pleasant.

I grind my knuckles; I still haven't been able to break that habit, and I wish I could soon. It shows that I'm worried, and that's not good for me. Right when I start, taunts usually come, and I don't really enjoy it. I'll start grinding faster, and they shower me with more of them. That usually happens a couple of times before someone shows up, usually Kyle, and tells the person to back off, who is usually Cartman. I'm grateful for it, but I wish I could defend myself.

Defending myself isn't something I'll try, because I know it won't work. All those bullying videos I've seen to help you are so full of crap. I really don't understand why people make those. It'll just make it worse.

I blinked a couple times, before realizing that I was still staring at Dad. I feel bad for him because he lost someone he loved so much. The day they divorced, I came home from school to see the living room ruined. The couch cushions were across the room, the table was on its side, the TV on its face on the ground, and about seven beer cans scattered on the floor. I heard grumbling from the kitchen, and I went up to my room as quickly as possible, as quiet as possible. I didn't dare come down for supper, or anything. I had stayed in my room to avoid his wrath.

It always scared me. Love scared me.

In fact, it terrified me.

Girls were nice, but I never tried to be friends with them. I avoided them. I'm afraid that I'll fall for them, and then they won't return the feelings, and I'll shatter. Because whatever falls gets broken. And I don't want to be a goth kid like Stan was in fourth grade.

I even avoid guys that I don't know, because I'm scared that I'll turn gay when they are straight and dating a cheerleader. If I talked to anyone, I would talk to the people that I've know since preschool, or people I knew I would never fall for.

In other people's minds, they would think that I don't want new friends, or friends at all. Even when I do talk, it's not a lot, so I can see where that comes from. But I'm just simply protecting myself. I don't like pain. No one does. But I would deal with any other pain rather than this. I don't want to turn into my dad.

So for now, I'm just simply putting up a brick wall between love and I, covering myself, saving myself. And maybe if I meet someone that I know wouldn't let me shatter, I'll slowly remove bricks, one by one, where they are waiting on the other side of the wall. If someone screws up, the brick wall gets rebuilt. I'll never remove the last brick, though. It's not like anyone can get to it, anyway. It takes a while for me to trust.

I don't take very kindly to strangers.

* * *

** New story here, and I'll try my best to finish. And I know the title doesn't really match, but I've been listening to Paramore a lot these past few days, and I thought of this listening to The Only Exception, and one of their songs is called Brick By Boring Brick. I have no idea how long this story will be, but I know it'll be 8 at the least. **

**I'm not gonna post stories that often. I feel like, when a fanfiction writer writes a lot, people will expect a lot. So if they take a break, people will think, "What happened? Where's my daily story?" Or something like that. And my goal is to get the second chapter by the end of the month. I don't have the entire story planned, but I have some of it, and I'm hoping to use those ideas. **

**Goodbye!**


	2. Chapter 2

I sigh and pick up the bottle, throwing it away. I wonder how much money Dad has wasted on these gross things. I really shouldn't think of him this way, but I think he's being pathetic, and a little overboard. Then again, it's not like I can force Mom to remarry him, or help him in any way. All I can do is let him cope in his own way, like I've been doing for the past four years.

I've been standing here for three minutes, and I don't know what to do. I could call Mom and just talk to her, or ask Kyle to hang out or something.

Out of everyone, I'd say he was my closest friend. I'm friends with Stan and Kenny, but I interact with Kyle the most. He likes to talk and rant to me, and I'll listen. I've always been a quiet person (though I have my moments), so it's nice that someone doesn't expect me to reply to everything they say. If I want to talk, he'll let me, but if I don't, he won't force me to. Unlike Stan, when I talk, he'll at least pretend to listen if he's annoyed. I was used to it.

Stan was sort of my friend. He could be nice when he felt like it, but he can be straight out be as well. Kenny was the same, with a side of pervertedness. I don't know how he can make all these jokes without them drying out or getting old. He could become a comedian if he tried. Everyone found them funny, even in their worst moods. He can put smiles on their faces just with a playful pickup line. It was ridiculous.

So I still hadn't made my choice, and I was getting bored. I finally decided on calling Kyle, just to see if he was busy. I dialed his number on my phone, and waited.

After four rings, he answered. "Hello? Who is this?"

I blinked. "This is Butters.." I said shyly, regretting the fact that I called.

"Oh, okay. What's up?"

I chewed on the inside of my mouth. "I was wondering if we could hang out or something, maybe.."

He cleared his throat. "I'm at the basketball court with Kenny and Cartman."

Oh, well I don't want to barge in. "Oh, okay, nevermind.." I tried to apologize.

I hear him sigh. "Butters, they don't care, and neither do I. You don't bother us. Not get your ass over here and join us."

"Did you say asses?" I hear in the background, followed by a smack. "Hey!"

"Oh, well okay. Bye." And I hang up. I should be able to play for an hour or so before Dad wakes up. Hopefully he doesn't ground me if I'm late.

Since the sun is out and it's around 70 degrees, I decide to walk. I walk outside, making sure not to wake Dad up.

I walk slowly, looking at the trees I pass. They look so pretty. Too bad Winter's coming in a couple months. .

I stand and watch as Eric stands in front of Kyle, trying to block him.

"Hey, guess what my favorite ballet is?" He smirks.

Kyle stares at him. "The nutcracker?" Before throwing the ball harshly right in the worst spot, making Eric groan and fall to the ground. I let a giggle escape.

Kenny nods his head, as if approving, and nudges Kyle, making them laugh.

Eric grunts, and slowly gets up. "Screw you guys.. I'm going... home.." He walks past me, not acknowledging me.

"Hey fellas!" I say, walking up to them. They stand up and greet me, in their own ways.

"Hey, Butters."

"Hey there, Butterbabe," Followed by a wink, making me shake my head and smile.

"Nice try, Kenny."

He jokingly pouts, while I turn my attention to Kyle. "Where's Stan?"

"He has another one of those 'father-son' trips with his Dad," He says, before chuckling. "That poor bastard." To which I nod, feeling sympathy. I liked Randy enough, but I know how embarrassing and awkward he got, especially around Stan. It's a relief that it was only them two.

"Can we just play?" Kenny asks, picking up the ball from the ground. "Hey Broflovski, catch!"

Unfortunately, Kyle didn't manage to catch it. Kyle was staring at the ground, so when he looked up, the ball smacked him in the face and knocked him out cold, making him hit the floor with a small thud.

"Ouch," I comment, and turn to stare to Kenny, who was wincing. I cross my arms. "Really, Ken?"

He put his hands up. "He's the basketball star, he should have seen it coming!"

"You couldn't have given him a heads-up?"

"I did, and he didn't look up fast enough."

"Because you didn't give him time!"

"I told him to catch!"

"And threw it half a second later."

He just threw his arms up. "Whatever. Now, are you going to help me get him home? And afterwards, we can have some real nice and hot-"

"No, Kenny." I roll my eyes.

"How would you know if I was planning to say sex? Maybe I was going to say coffee." He said, walking over to Kyle.

I followed him. "Were you going to say coffee, or sex?"

He stayed silent and slowly picked up Kyle bridal style. "Sex..." He finally muttered.

I smiled, amused, and I bent down to grab Kyle's bag. "That's what I thought."

"Though I wouldn't mind having nice and hot coffee with you." He told me as we walked out the court. I noticed he had a small smile, maybe even a shy smile, on his face. This smile wasn't the one he used to pick-up everyone; This is a real, genuine smile, which I rarely ever see.

I don't know what I should feel about those words. I wasn't flattered in the romantic way, but I still found it nice that someone wouldn't mind spending time with me. So I just decide to grin back, and stare at the trees we were passing. "If you'd like that, I wouldn't either. I like making people happy, like you." I say.

"Really?"

I turn back to him, noticing him looking at me, shocked.

"Yeah," I say in a nonchalant voice. "If my friends are happy, I'm happy."

This time he stops, and by the looks of it, he almost drops Kyle. "I'm your friend?"

I don't get why he was so surprised. "Well yeah, Kenny. One of my closest, actually. Why?"

"No reason, just wondering." He says. He clears his throat, and keeps walking. I follow him and stare at his face. His cheeks looked a little pink, and his eyes were on the ground. I really don't know what was wrong. I was okay at identifying facial expressions, but this one I just couldn't read.

Soon we were at Kyle's house. We've been over enough times to just walk in and announce ourselves, so that's just what we do.

"What happened to Kyle?" Sheila immediately asks us when she sees him.

Kenny sets him on the couch. "We were playing basketball and I uh, hit his head. Sorry about that."

She smiles at his honesty. "That's alright, Kenneth, as long as he's alive and healthy, apology accepted. I would like to have you boys over longer, but it's getting late. You should be heading home."

Just then, I realize how long I was gone. It was barely an hour, but I wasn't planning to be out this long.

I grind my knuckles. "Oh gee, I better get home," And I walk towards the door, opening it for Kenny and I. "Bye, Mrs. Broflovski!" I call.

"Butters, I've told you a million times to call me Sheila. But be safe walking home!" She warns, and we walk out.

"I really thought that she would go nuts." Kenny muses, and I nod my head in agreement. Our houses were in opposite directions, so we had to say goodbye.

"Hey, Butters, before you leave," He calls, and I turn towards him. "I was wondering. Would you REALLY mind getting coffee with me someday?" He asks me, looking hesitant.

I give him a smile. "No, I wouldn't. I like making my friends happy. That includes you." I tell him.

He gives a real smile, and lets out a breath. "Good. Well, I gotta go," His smile turns into a mischievous smirk. "Later, hot ass." And before I know it, I'm smacked on the butt harshly, before he quickly runs away. I glare at his back for a few seconds, and start walking home.

When I enter my house, I'm relieved to see my dad still asleep. Thanking God, I walk past him and into the kitchen, stealing a granola bar. I sneak up the steps, and into my room, flopping on the bed, and start chewing on my bed.

Why was he acting so weird?

* * *

Well, it seems like Kenny's crushing on our little Butters. But that doesn't mean he returns them yet, or even notice them. In fact, I'll probably tease you guys with Bunny moments for a couple more chapters, just to fuck with you guys. Because that's how nice I am. But I hope you enjoyed! :) I'll be updating around the 14th of August to the 25th of August. I already finished the next chapter and have some ideas up to chapter 11, but I don't want to publish the whole story in a few months. I want to space them out.

It'll be really damn hard for me to update. I'm a really smart kid at my school, so I'll have extra things to do. AND I'll be joining band and orchestra, I'll start playing tennis, I'll learn how to cook, and my sisters and nephew (who's not even two months old at the time) might come home, so I hope you guys will understand.

Goodbye!


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning was a Saturday, so I wake up late, around noon. I hear Dad call my name and I rush downstairs. Despite being a drinker, he could be a good father when he didn't have a bottle in his hand. And Mom talking to him about grounding me less. I still got grounded about twice a week, though.

Speaking of Mom, I was hoping to visit her. She lived about a mile away, but I wouldn't mind walking. Recently, the weather's been nice and sunny, and the perfect temperature. It started about three days ago, and I read online that it'll stay that way for almost another week.

I walk into the kitchen, where my cold breakfast (which was two pancakes) was waiting. Darn, now I'll have to reheat it.

My father was in the kitchen, also waiting for me. "There you are, Butters. I've told you a million times not to stay up late. It'll make you wake up later. Imagine how it'll be when you start working." He scolds me, and I bite my lip.

"Sorry Dad, I just had too much on my mind to sleep." I mutter lowly.

He shrugs it off. "Think it through, than go to sleep. Well, I'm off to the grocery store. Be good, and if you leave, don't forget to leave a note." And he walks out the door.

I stare at the door for a few seconds, and I sit down. I slowly eat my food, humming. I'm alone and I would be for a while, so I can be as loud as I wanted to be. I wasn't a loud person normally, but when Dad was gone, I always sang.

After I was done, I quickly changed, and started singing one of my favorite songs. "Jealousy, turning saints into the sea, swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis," I sang quietly as I started washing the dishes.

I stopped doing the dishes after realizing I could play it on my phone which is exactly what I did. I set it on Pandora. I turned it up high, and soon I was singing really loud.

"But it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling me, open up my eager eyes!" I belted out as I scrubbed a small plate. "Because I'm Mr. Brightside!"

I finished washing the dishes with a few more songs, and I walked upstairs to see if I left any. All I saw were beer bottles in Dad's room, but I left that alone. Seeing nothing worth being cleaned, I walk downstairs, jolt down a note, and put on my shoes.

I open the door, and I nearly jump out of my skin. "Jesus!"

Kenny had his fist out, and I could tell he had the same reaction. He pulls his fist back.

"Sorry, Butters. I was just going to ask if we could get some coffee at Tweek Bros.." He stumbles.

I let out a breath. "Kenny I would love to, but I was just about to go visit my mom," Seeing his disappointed face, I quickly try to fix my mistake. "But you can come with, if you want!" I nervously chuckle.

"Really? I'd be happy to go. Besides, I haven't even met your mother yet." He smiles.

I laugh. "How I met your mother," I quote the TV show, giggling.

He laughs too. "Alright, where does your mom live?"

"She lives about a mile away, but I want to walk. It's so nice outside."

"Aww come on, you want to walk? Won't your feet get tired? You have short legs, dude."

"These legs are capable of walking, Ken."

He shakes his head. "Nonsense, nonsense is what you are speaking!" And suddenly he picks me up and somehow, gets me on his back, giving me a piggyback ride.

"Ken, put me down!" I giggle, looping my arms around his neck so I don't fall.

He shakes his head again, holding onto my legs, and rubbing his hands up and down.

"Stop!" I tell him, feeling him lightly tickle my ankles.

"Nope. Where does your mother live?" He asks me, still stubborn.

I give in, and stop resisting. "This way!" And I point towards the right, and he starts walking that way.

"Why are you visiting your mom?" He asks me.

"I just felt like surprising her. It's been about a month since I've seen her, and I miss her." I tell him, resting my head on his neck.

I feel him tense up. "How often do you see her?"

"Usually every three weeks. She calls me and asks me, but I'm kind of shy about asking her. She could be busy or something. I'm never busy, so she makes the calls."

"Makes sense." He comments. We walk for a couple more blocks before

"Ken, do you ever try to talk to your dad?"

"Nope. The bastard stopped trying once I turned 13. Apparently, since I'm a teenager, I don't need support," I hear him scoff.

"Wouldn't that be an adult?" I ask, loosening my grip on his neck.

"I'm pretty it is." He agrees with me, before stopping. I tip my head and try to stare at his face, which was covered by his hair.

"What wrong?"

He lets out a few squeaks, before throwing his head forward and sneezing. I try to hide it, but a laugh passes my mouth. He sneezes again, and I laugh again. His sneeze sounded funny.

"Fucking hell.." He mutters, and continues walking.

I smile and roll my eyes. "Ken, can I walk? Aren't YOUR legs tired?"

"I have longer legs than you, and I am strong enough to carry you. Besides, it gives me the opportunity to rub your legs, if you know what I mean."

I rub my nose in annoyance. "I know what you mean, and it's gross."

"I'm just trying to get in bed with you."

"You try to get in bed with everyone."

"That includes you."

I move my hand up and swat him on the face.

"Damn it, Butters.. How far do we have?" He asked, annoyance in his voice.

"Couple more streets." I tell him.

"Good. My legs are tired, actually, but I am determined to prove you wrong," He says, and I grin.

"You know, I feel like taking a nap-"

"Don't you fucking dare, or I will fall right on my back."

Instantly, I jump at the threat. "NO!"

"Good, because I would have done it either way. Any way to land on top of you. It'd be like you spooning me."

"Or you crushing me, maybe," I tug on one of his strands, and his head tilts back.

He laughs. "That felt good. I can't imagine how good it'll feel when you tug when I have sex with you."

"Dangit, Kenny!" I smack him again, which makes him laugh harder. After a few seconds, and familiar house comes into view. "There!" I point to the house.

"Oh, thank God!" He yells, and speeds up.

He stops in front of the house, and he finally lets me down. It feels good using my legs again.

I take a deep breath, and knock on the door. I hear quickly pounding footsteps, which is weird. Mom can't run that fast.

The door opens, and I'm greeting by a little boy with a giant smile, about three or four years old. I find this also weird, and Kenny does too, because he whispers in my ear.

"Who the fuck is that?" And to that, I shrug. "Are you sure this is the right house?"

"Yes, Ken." I reply, and turn back to the kid. He looked just like me. He had my same shaggy, blonde hair, a slightly sharper nose than mine, thinner lips, and lighter eyes. My eyes were blue, while his looked like they were sea green.

"Hi!" The boy's voice was cheerful and chippy. My eyes slid down to slits as I stared at him.

"Uhm, is Linda here?" I ask the boy.

His eyes brightened, and he said something that just about made me faint. "You mean mommy? Mama! MAMA!" And he walks away from the door.

"What." My jaw drops. I can feel Kenny's shocked look bore into my eyes.

"Who's at the door, dearie?" I hear. Oh no, no way is this happening.

The thing I wanted to happen didn't happen. In fact, the opposite happened.

My mom walked up to the door, the boy on his hip.

My jaw literally falls down farther, if that's possible, and my eyes are wide as saucers.

Her face immediately turns to worry, guilt, and shock, while the boy's smile is still just as big, oblivious.

I've never fainted before, so this is the first time. My vision blurs, my mind goes dizzy, and I can't move any body parts.

I fall backwards and faint, right into Kenny's arms.

* * *

So terribly sorry! I just suddenly got pulled in by a different fanbase. YouTube. Is that even possible? Anyway, I started watching Dan and Phil just to check them out and I fell in love. Than I started reading 'phanfiction'. Seriously, after like, three videos, I got sucked in. I've watched nearly all of their videos, collab or not, and read almost all of the phanfics, terrifying or not. I advise that you do NOT read any story that ends with the word 'fic' because that means that weird shit will happen and it will scar you.

**Examples: The Fire Fic, The Skin Fic, The Chair Fic, The Tentacle Fic, The Hat Fic, The Plum Fic, The Ranch Fic, Kitten And Steamrollers, and others I have never read and/or heard of. **

And also, I don't see Butters being completely shy around everyone. Around strangers, sure, but around his friends, I feel like he could easily be one of them, minus the swearing. And I'm not making him be completely innocent. Being around the boys (especially Kenny), you would be a pervert in about 10 seconds.

Goodbye!


End file.
